






<^ *o . 












«« *o. 










^ 4V * 













* 4* ^ 














*-i*. *• * s .v v 











* 47 ^ 






^"°* '*"^» : * ^ "life? ^°** 





Poems 



Hildegarde Hawthorne 







Boston : Richard G. Badger 
The Gorhatn Press 
1905 



Copyright 1904 by Hildegarde Hawthorne 
All rights reserved. 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 


Two Copies 


deceived 


DEC 19 


1904 


, Cooyriijnt hntry 
& A 2D.J?9*f- 
CUSS <fc XXc. Not 

COPY B. 






\<\o5- 



PRINTED AT 

THE OORHAM THEM 
BOSTON, U. B. A. 



TO ROSE 

WITH THANKS AND LOVE 

H. H. 



CONTENTS 






Page 


Inspiration .... 


9 


Flower and Thorn [To F. L. H .] 


10 


Music ..... 


II 


Fom Leave no Room to Mourn 


12 


Loss ..... 


*3 


Love's Silence [ To Beatrix] . 


14 


Aftermath {To My Mother] . 


15 


No/ T^ctf, Z?«/ Strife 


16 


Lull ab ye . 


18 


Storm ..... 


ig 


Love's Gifts .... 


20 


J Steta* [To A. St. G.] . 


21 


Loneliness [ To My Father] . 


22 


Reward {To Imogen] 


23 


The Hour .... 


24 


Dismissal .... 


25 


L*7* [To/. F. B. II.] . 


26 


// Riddle .... 


27 





Page 


Devotion .... 


28 


Niagara . 


29 


Summons [To Gwendolen] 


30 


Winter ..... 


31 


Sea [To H. A. H.] 


32 


A Song ..... 


33 


My Rose .... 


34 


Waiting [To E. 5.] 


35 


Gifts 


■ 36 


A Dream .... 


37 



Poems 



INSPIRATION 

As sometimes sight is given 

The Artist, and he knows 
His art was born in Heaven 

And not through him arose — 
His but the holy duty 

To clothe the Heaven-lent 
In word or shape of beauty 

That witness its descent — 
So Mary, in the breaking 

Of that rare Eastern morn, 
From pain to peace awaking 

Knew, with a joy forlorn, 
Not hers the Son she cherished, 

Not hers the Light that shone; 
Hers but the gift that perished — 

The suffering alone! 



FLOWER AND THORN 

Blue sky, pink of blooming trees, 
Clear and high the robin's call ; 
Fragrance floating on the breeze; 
Sweet is all! 

Dear, I bring thee blossoming bough, 

Flower and breath of happy Spring; 
Joy and laughter bring I now — 
But no more may bring. 

Fields waist-high with yellow grain, 

Dusky shadows of the wood, 
Purple nights and sudden rain ; 
All is good! 

Sweet, I bring thee golden love, 
Summer s passion and delight, 
Kinship with the gods above; 
All that's fair and bright! 

Withered leaf and frozen stream, 

Shrouding, softly-falling snow, 
Bitter end to summer's dream; 
All must go! 

Faded are the flowers and fled 

Love's great hour. Yet smile and see, 
Best beloved, lift thy head — 
Death I bring to theel 



10 



MUSIC 

In the wide-moving sea 

Is hid a mystery 
That the ever-sounding swell 

Whispers of, but may not tell — 
With its deathless melody 

Guarding the secret well. 

And the wind in its sweep 

Above the mighty deep 
Breathes a meaning few may know; 

Sings it in a cadence low; 
Thunders it from steep to steep — 

Farther than thought can go. 

The spirit hath no way 

Its master- word to say. 
But that chanting of the sea 

And the wind's high harmony? 
With immortal phrases they 

Invest the mystery! 



YOU LEAVE NO ROOM TO MOURN 

When weary of the chatter of the street, 
Tired of the toiling millions at my side, 
The bick'ring, the dishonor; when sore tried 
By dead'ning city walls, a vision sweet 
Will sometimes come of blowing trees that greet 
Still meadows, and a deeply moving tide 
Meeting a primrose sky. Peace doth abide 
All day, a bulwark strong against defeat. 
And so, when all my soul is sick of life, 
Sick of the trammels of this world forlorn, 
Heartsick of always failing in the strife, 
The glory of your face is sometimes borne 
Unto my spirit. Then, though grief be rife, 
It passes, Love. You leave no room to mourn! 



LOSS 

Who that hath lost some dear beloved friend 
But knoweth how — when the wild grief is spent 
That tore his soul with agony, and did lend 
E'en to the splendor-beaming firmament 
The blighting darkness of his shadowed heart — 
There surely follows peace and quiet sorrow 
That lead his spirit, by divinest art, 
Past the drear present to that glorious morrow 
Where parting is not, neither grief nor fear! 
But how shall he find comfort, who sees die, 
Not the one presence that he holds most dear; 
But from his heart a hope as Heaven high, 
And from his life a wish as Truth sublime, 
And from his soul a love that mocked at Time? 



13 



LOVE'S SILENCE 

There are no words in which to tell 
How fair the moonlight is to me, 

Nor to convey the sea's resistless swell 
Nor haunting mystery. 

No golden syllables can sing 

The thrush's song for thee or me; 

The fragrance that the summer breezes bring 
All unexpressed must be. 

I cannot tell thee how I mourn 
When suffering or loss are thine; 

The delicate wings of joy are bruised and torn 
By these rough words of mine. 

I strive to tell the love that makes 
The music of my heart and soul ; 

O Love ! a holy silence breathes and wakes, 
And that must speak the whole. 



14 



AFTERMATH 

When splendid day to sombre darkness dies ; 
When all the riotous birds have hushed their song 
And the blue water and the perfumed throng 
Of flowers are hidden ; when sad shadow lies 
Where golden sunshine erstwhile filled the eyes, 
And all is dark and cold the hills among — 
Oh, then the moon will rise and pure and strong 
Flood the gray world with silver to the skies! 
So, when youth's glow and glory fade away; 
When the sweet laugh and dearer love-words die, 
The high endeavor and the happy play 
Alike are past: perhaps in the dark sky 
Another dawn will bring a lovelier day, 
More tender, rarer, full of mystery. 



15 



NOT PEACE, BUT STRIFE 

(I) 

Sweetheart, I used to question, ere you came, 
What thing this was that bore the name of love, 
And, fash'ning from dream fancies, from the fame 
Of mighty loves now dead, and from above 
Seeking a light immortal, I at length 
Built for myself a dainty wild-wood nest, 
A harmony of beauty and of strength : 
A fairy spot with fragrant flowers dressed, 
Where bird-songs echoed in the golden air 
And summer sunshine gleamed athwart the trees ! 
There, hand-in-hand with One, knowing no care 
I wandered happy as the morning breeze. 

(ID 

But now that you are here, 

My love, the truth I see! 
How God lives in our love, bidding us fight 

Wrong, sorrow, and to rear 

By our own joy the free 
And holy glory of His loving Right. 

And gladly, with no sigh 

I leave the dream, nor crave 

Aught but, with thee, to try 
The power of mighty love to help and save. 



16 



(Ill) 

Dearest, when we have done what was our best; 
When the strength of our day is past, and night 
Comes quietly, and we know that we must rest 
Leaving the task undone, shall not the fight — 
Though all unfinished, faltering and weak, 
Yet, since we loved each other, and held high 
Above our failing what God bade us seek — 
Shall not the fight bring peace? And we but die 
To find the dream is real? Not, as then, made 
Of careless-happy fancies, but reared strong 
On selfhood's sacrifice and conquered wrong! 



i7 



LULLABYE 

Hush, my sweet, my own, 

Sleep, oh sleep! 
I will not leave you alone — 

Nay, never weep, 

Hushabye and sleep. 

Hush! the cricket's croon 
Swells and dies, 

And the flowers breathe a rune 
Shut, sweet, your eyes, 
Clear as summer skies. 

Sleep, my baby dear, 

Hushabye ! 
Angels are watching you here, 

Mother is nigh — 

Sleep and hushabye. 



STORM 

Grey skies or blue to me one answer bring; 
The summer or the autumn or the spring 
Rustle their leaves and flowers, murm'ring to me 
77 may not, may not be, it may not be — 
Over and over, all the whispering leaves, 
The nodding roses and the garnered sheaves: 
It may not, will not be. Yet in wild hours 
When the black earth is drenched with sudden 

showers, 
When the bent branches groan and the fierce sea 
Leaps foaming to the shore, lashed by the free, 
The mighty wind that chanting goes its way, 
I listen and I hear: It may, it may! 



19 



LOVE'S GIFTS 

If I love you, will you give 
To me the sweetest flowers 

That on breezy hillsides live 
Or bloom in faerie bowers? 

You shall have them, every one, 
Loveliest flowers that blow, 

Blossoming in shade or sun — 

(And thorns therewith, I know!) 

If I love you, will you bring 
The pearls from the deep sea, 

To hang about me as I sing 
My rarest songs for thee? 

All the pearls from all the seas, 
I'll bring them to you, dear; 

Lovely as your melodies — 
(And for each pearl, a tear!) 

If I love you, will you take 
The bright stars from the sky, 

Crowning me, for sweet love's sake, 
Your queen and goddess high ? 

I will give the crown to you, 
Shining stars that will not fade ; 

And a liege's worship true — 
(With death at last, poor maid!) 



A STATUE 

Yea, I have lived ! Pass on 
And trouble me with questions nevermore. 

I suffered. I have won 
A solemn peace — my peace forevermore. 

Leave me in silence here! 

I have no hope, no care ; 

I know no fear, 
For I have borne — but now no longer bear. 

Deep-hid sorrow calls me kin, 

But my calm she cannot break. 
I know not good — I know not sin — 

Nor love nor hate can me awake. 

Though I have sought, I care not now to find. 

If I have asked, I wait for no reply. 
My eyes from too much seeing are grown blind. 
I am not dead, yet do not need to die. 
Pass on ; ye cannot reach me any more ; 

Pass on — for all is past ! 
Hush ! silence settles ever more and more ; 
Silence and night at last. 



LONELINESS 

Remote and solemn, with enduring snow 
Forever hooded, yonder mountain peak 
Climbs to the shining stars, alone and bleak. 
And here forever sighs, with ebb and flow, 
The moving ocean, to whose deeps no glow 
Of summer sunshine may an entrance seek. 
And in their isolation lie and reek 
Those deserts alkaline where no life may show. 
Lonely all these ! but lonelier still than they, 
Summing their loneliness into one whole 
Inviolate and terrible as fire, 
There passes, on its solitary way, 
Untouched, unheard, unknown, each human soul 
Alone for all its loving and desire. 



22 



REWARD 

All they who walk in joy or in despair 

The ways of life, through shadow and through 

light, 
Ask for some boon, some guerdon, some delight, 
To crown their living. Tempted by the glare 
Some seek but gold ; for fame some greatly dare ; 
While nobly others toil to help the right, 
To strengthen truth, to gain a finer height 
Of wisdom. But to me this seems most fair 
And above all life's gifts I would choose this: 
That one with love's deep voice should turn and 

say, 
When night drew down and it was time to rest: 
" Sweet, you have helped me," bending down to kiss 
My clinging hands, " and but for you the way 
Would have been barren — you have made it blest." 



THE HOUR 

The slow, sweet hour that shrines the setting sun, 
Or that which broods above the summer noon 
Perfect in golden beauty — gone too soon 
After its vanished sisters! Or the one 
Long looked for, when the heavy day is done, 
That comes, dim-lighted by the rising moon, 
And fragrant with the roses born to June, 
To whisper sorrow past and joy begun; 
Nor these, nor any, do I name the best ; 
But if an hour shall dawn that sees us meet, 
That brings us close, thou, all unknown, yet mine, 
Stranger, yet most myself ! above the rest — 
Above that hour which sees us at Love's feet — 
I'll set it, token of the Power Divine. 



24 



DISMISSAL? 

Forgive, you pray, and still, forgive! 

But yet you throw 
To Stella, passing there below, 
A glance too lingering and sweet; 

Again you greet 
Fair Ida with that tender smile — 

Yet all the while 
Forgive, you say, forgive! 

I love, you sigh, I love but you! 

And still you bend 
O'er Rose's hand, and will not end 
From whispering to Isabel 

Quick words that tell 
In her bright eye and glowing cheek; 

Then me you seek 
To cry: I love but you! 

Go to, poor trifler ; you should know 

That he who sips 
Too freely from all pretty lips 
And finds in every lovely eye 

Cause for a sigh, 
Dwells but a moment in the thought 

And then, is naught! 



But yet — I do not know ! 



*5 



LIFE 

Give me the strength and height 

Of glorious life; 

The dazzling light, 
The straining and the strife, 

Love, passion, hope, 
In their divinest scope. 

High winds on mighty seas 

Not sheltered bay ; 

The storm that frees 
Wild torrents great and gay 

With splendid power; 
Not the soft springtime shower. 

And if the storm should kill 
The torrent drown? 
So be it still. 

Still let me snatch the crown 
Life has to give 

And cry, but once, I live! 



26 



A RIDDLE 

Fair as blossom on a bough, 
White as moonbeam in the snow, 
Light as gossamer ablow, 
Tender as love-thoughts allow — 
What, think you? 

True as fabled lovers are, 
Strong as hope in happy youth, 
Holy as are Good and Truth, 
Pure as the light from a star — 
Who, think you? 



27 



DEVOTION 

Beloved, as the sun doth lend 
To lonely deserts grace, 

And on bare rocks a beauty spend 
As on some fairer place; 

So, too, doth love a glory shed 

As exquisitely rare 
Where no return is ever made 

For his unmeasured care. 



28 



NIAGARA 

Might we but hear the music of God's love! 

If, while the daily toil and narrow care 
Fretted our souls, there reached us from above 

One deep-toned, solemn note, killing despair 
And evil with its beauty and its might 

And all its holy depth of tenderness! 
It cannot be in this world ; to our sight 

The pure light of His truth is only darkness, 
And to our ears his glorious symphony 

Is utter silence ; yet, methinks, a slight, 
Far-distant echo sounds eternally, 

Would we but understand ! During the flight 
Of centuries on centuries it calls, 

Rising to heaven with the rainbow spray : 
The strong, immortal chanting of the Falls, 

Awing our momentary griefs away. 



29 



SUMMONS 

[ feel it call me as no human voices 

Have ever done — the music deep and strong 

Born of the forest when the wind rejoices 
With tumult of forgotten, ancient song. 

Naught draws me like the scent of the marsh-places 
In the hot noontide, in the quivering noon, 

When sunlight overflows the blue air spaces, 
And motion fails into a magic swoon. 

My spirit sweeps aloft with the great mountains, 
And finds in mighty storms a mystic calm. 

I know the song sung by the hidden fountains, 
I long for the deep valley's scented balm. 

Deserts grown gray beneath the sun's long shining, 
Creating loneliness from morn to morn ; 

Forgotten paths through dim, lush meadows twin- 
ing, 
Shores where the sea forever moves forlorn. 

Earth voices, sun and moon and shadow calling; 

Growth of the spring and summer's dreaming 
peace ; 
Tempest and evening hush and soft snow falling: 

Immortal voices! never will ye cease 

To lead me by strange ways, half-comprehending — 
Oh, half-rememb'ring what I do not know! 

Beyond all life and beauty that hath ending, 
Unto that Mystery, whence yourselves ye flow. 



WINTER 

Love led her through deserted, frozen ways, 

Yet to her eyes the Spring bloomed free and fair: 

Alone she stood in Summer's purple haze, 
And her cold heart knew only Winter there. 



3« 



SEA 

Harken! it is the Sea, 

The solemn-sounding Sea! 
Echo of marriage hymn and dirge 
Wake within its beating surge; 
But none born upon the land 
Can understand 
Its melody. 

Behold! it is the Sea, 

The always-changing Sea! 
Now it woos with shining wave, 

Now it hides in moving grave ; 
But none born to earth's estate 
May penetrate 
Its mystery. 



32 



A SONG 

Sing me a sweet, low song of night 

Before the moon is risen, 
A song that tells of the stars' delight 

Escaped from day's bright prison; 
A song that croons with the cricket's voice, 

That sleeps with the shadowed trees, 
A song that shall bid my heart rejoice 

At its tender mysteries! 

And then when the song is ended, love, 

Bend down your head unto me, 
Whisper the word that was born above 

Ere the moon had swayed the sea; 
Ere the brightest star began to shine 

Or the farthest sun to burn, 
The oldest of words, O heart of mine, 

Yet newest, and sweet to learn ! 



33 



L.tfG, 



MY ROSE 

On a green slope, most fragrant with the Spring, 

One sweet, fair day I planted a red rose 
That grew, beneath my tender nourishing, 

So tall, so riotous of bloom, that those 
Who passed the little valley where it grew 

Smiled at its beauty; all the air was sweet 
Above it ; still I tended it, and knew 

That he would come, e'en as it grew complete. 

And a day brought him ! Up I led him, where 

In the warm sun my rose bloomed gloriously ; 
Smiling, and saying: " So, is it not fair? 

And all for thee, all thine! " But he passed by 
Coldly, and answered: " Rose? I see no rose," 

Leaving me standing in the barren vale 
Alone, alone! feeling the darkness close 

Deep o'er my heart, and all my being fail. 

Then came one gently, yet with eager tread, 
Begging one rosebud — but my rose was dead. 



34 



WAITING 

Bare trees and frozen ground and silent stream! 

Do you long for the coming of the Spring, 

For moving leaves, for bird upon the wing? 

You are so patient, it would hardly seem 

You cared. Perhaps because the seasons bring 

So surely to your waiting everything 

You yearn for, as the night the dawn's fresh gleam. 

I, too, stand waiting; but I do not know 

If to my breathless and desiring heart 

(That dreads to find the year once more grown old) 

The changing seasons will bring joy or woe: 

Whether my flowers will bloom or if, apart, 

I still must tremble in the winter's cold. 



35 



GIFTS 

If God had given me seme wondrous thing 

Thou shouldst have had it. I had but my song 

That rhymed to the wild music all day long 
Sung by the chanting sea. I could but bring 
My laughter, glad as the first sounds of Spring 

And free as are the flowers from pain or wrong. 

But these, and my young hope as Heaven strong, 
My wish for good, my faith in everything — 

All these thou hast. But when I brought to thee 
My heart, that with much dreaming was grown 
great, 

Thou wouldst not take it ; yet it cannot be 
That thou wilt keep the dying song, or wait 

To hear spent echoes of past joy? Give me 
My poor gifts back, nor leave me desolate. 



A DREAM 

I had a dream of love; 

It seemed that on a sudden in my heart 

A live and passionate thing sprang into being 

And conquered me. 'Twas fierce and terrible, 

But yet as lovely as the dawn and soft 

With a deep power. It roused a longing 

To do I know not what — ah, yes ! to give 

More than myself ; and, failing that, to die — 

(If only death were harder) — could that make 

One moment happier for that other soul ! 

This was the dream. But what is love itself? 



37 



Thanks are due the editors of The Century, 
Harper 's, Scribner's, The Atlantic, and other maga- 
zines for their kind permission to reprint certain of 
these poems. 



W16 



2f 
-8-8 



DEC. W 1904 



,4°, 



- v " : M 8": ° 



»bv* 






^^ 






,/ 





o* :, 

























A 







*- %*? 







*" .< 



t? *$> <? * SIB * ^ «£ 




C,vP 












IECKMAN 

INDERY INC. 

,<^ DEC 88 



N. MANCHESTER, 
^^ INDIANA 46962 



